"I didn't mean to," she says, eventually, though Ivan presumably has sufficient grasp of the obvious to have already cottoned onto that by himself. Tense when he sits down, she-- stays that way, but doesn't move or object, registering what he's got in his hands and trying to muster some kind of reaction. She always thought it'd be nice to be looked after.

It doesn't seem terribly surprising that it isn't, really.